


Cops & Rogers

by flipperbrain



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13580760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipperbrain/pseuds/flipperbrain
Summary: Rogers gets home after a long day at work to find the tables have been turned.





	Cops & Rogers

It’s late when Rogers finally gets home and he’s tired. He fumbles his keys and drops them twice mumbling ’fuck’ before he manages to unlock the door and step inside. It’s pitch black in the living room, he grumbles to himself wondering why the hell Killian didn’t leave a light on for him. Suddenly the door is pushed closed and he’s shoved against the wall, his right arm twisted behind his back.

‘Freeze motherfucker!’

It’s Killian.

Rogers laughs. ‘Killian what th….’

Killian twists his arm a little harder and growls ‘Quiet! Both hands behind your back, NOW!’

Rogers complies, then grins when he feels the furry handcuffs Killian received as a gag gift on his last birthday snap closed around his wrists.

And something hard presses into his back… a baton?

‘Killian, where did…’

‘I told you, no talking.’ Killian barks, trying to sound dangerous. 

’Now spread ‘em!’

Rogers is cackling as he walks his legs apart. Killian’s body is flush against him and he feels something else hard against him as the baton taps the inside of his thighs. ‘Wider, buddy’ he snarls.

Killian’s lips brush his detective’s neck and ear as his hand pats him down, feeling along his arms, criss-crossing down his chest and back. His fingers search the waistband of his pants and inside his front and back pockets, pausing to squeeze a cheek then continue south.

His hand roams down the outside of his legs then back up on the inside.

‘Any weapons?’ he asks as his fingers slide between Rogers’ legs, palming his crotch.

’No, sir’ Rogers answers cheekily, realizing he’s been on his tiptoes as his lover rubs and caresses the bulge growing in his pants. He relaxes back on his heels, leaning into Killian’s hand. His face still smashed against the wall as Killian gropes him.

’No?’ Killian asks then clutches him roughly ‘what’s this?’

Killian spins Rogers around to face him, he loses his balance a little and his shoulders hit the wall, his feet do a jig to catch himself but strong arms steady him before he falls.

Rogers eyes, now accustomed to the darkness, see Killian clearly. He’s naked and his sex is hard as a rock, jutting out from his body like an iron rod. And, he’s wearing his hook. The harness resembles a holster with straps over each shoulder and connecting leather bands across his chest and back. A section buckles above his elbow and attaches to the lower brace that covers his stump. A complicated contraption but it stays on. And it’s sexy as fuck.

Killian stares into his eyes for a moment then abruptly yanks Rogers’ shirt open with hand and hook, buttons fly everywhere. His mouth is instantly on Roger’s nipple, sucking fiercely, biting and licking it into a swollen nub. Rogers inhales, his head falling back against the wall and looks at the ceiling, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He gasps as the cold steel of the hook makes contact with his ribs, its tip lightly scratching a path to the button that closes his pants and makes short work of it, ripping it off and tearing the waistband in the process.

‘Goddamnit,’ Rogers exclaims ‘you’re payin…’

His words are silenced by Killian’s mouth. His kiss is ravenous. His tongue pushes into Rogers mouth, probing deeply, licking the soft surfaces inside and Rogers responds with equal ferocity, their tongues fencing and challenging each other, heads tilting, mouths slanting. Killian grabs handfuls of Rogers’ hair pulling him closer, crushing their lips together. A bruising kiss, punishing and delicious and long. Killian breaks to bite and suck Rogers’ lowers lip as his left arm reaches around him, dragging his hips forward then grinding against him while the nightstick in his right hand saws back and forth between his legs.

The furry handcuffs are surprisingly well constructed, Rogers can’t break out of them to use his arms, try as he might. Killian grins against his mouth as he struggles briefly then gives up. ‘Be a good boy, detective’ he chides, then drops to his knees to kiss and bite his partner’s stomach. His lips press against his crotch, mouthing the shape of him. Rogers can feel his hot breath through the fabric of his pants and looks down at the face gazing up innocently, as he unzips his fly with his teeth then tugs his pants down to pool around his ankles.

Rogers leans against the wall panting, his hands bound and his feet now hopelessly tangled, waiting. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips as he watches Killian grasp him firmly, press his lips against his end, then draw him into his mouth. He feels his tongue dip into the small slit at the tip and push in, gently stretching and tasting. He watches as his length disappears, as Killian swallows him whole, then jumps slightly as smooth metal hooks around his balls, lifting them, sliding against them, letting them drop then hooking them again. 

Killian works with determination, dragging his teeth along the smooth skin of his cock as it glides in and out past his lips and tongue. ‘Oh God,’ Rogers groans at the sensation, his hips jerk and buck against Killian’s mouth wanting more. More teeth. More speed. 

Rogers breathes heavily, his mouth is slack as he observes the action below with fascination. His dick sliding in and out between full lips, tongue lapping hungrily along its shaft, in and out, in and out. Hypnotic, and so fucking hot. Killian seals his mouth tightly around him digging in with his lips for more friction and sucks hard. His cheeks hollow as his head drives relentlessly forward and back, his hook moving in tandem. 

Rogers thrusts and grinds in sync with his pace, feeling his climax building low in his groin, then the warmth begins to spread up his torso as the first spasms ripple through him. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuCKK!’ he groans and grunts and squeaks open mouthed, as he comes, emptying himself between Killian’s lips. Their eyes meet as he spills out, throbbing and pulsing and spurting warm salty liquid, his body arched and rigid until he strains out the last drops.

He slumps and slides down the wall, plopping onto the floor and leans sideways, his arms still trapped behind his back. His flushed cheeks glow in the dim as he pants.

Killian finishes himself soon after, his hair hanging in his eyes as he pounds and pumps, pouring out his orgasm onto Rogers thigh.

‘Jesus, Killian’ Rogers gasps.

Killian just smiles broadly as he catches his breath then says with a wink, ’hey, how ‘bout a shower?’


End file.
